Preggers
by Respect-De-Snickuhs-Bahs
Summary: There was no question when I saw her face. Lissa was pregnant. Actually, I was kind of surprised. I didn't think Fang had it in him to be totally honest. No Wings.
1. An Interesting Turn of Events

**Chapter One: An Interesting Turn of Events**

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><p>"Max, could you handle the phone for a second?" asked Anne, the secretary at my mom's local clinic. "I have to sign for a package at the back door."<p>

"Sure, no problem," I replied, taking her seat at the front desk. She thanked me before hurrying down the hall and disappeared through the back exit. She's not my favorite person in the world, but taking over her job every once and a while is totally awesome. She has this cushy chair that spins around. And last year I found a chocolate stash in her top drawer. It beats sorting medicine shelves anyway.

_ Briiiiing_.

Shit. That's the phone. I totally suck at answering phones. Well, here goes nothing. "Um, hello?"

"Hi," said a nervous voice. It sounded really familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. "Is this Dr. Martinez's Health Clinic?"

"Yeah-um, yes. How can I help you?" I pinned the phone between my ear and shoulder, searching the desk for a sticky note or something.

"Oh, I was just…um, this is really embarrassing, but…" Oh great. It was one of those people. I mean, _really_. We're a _health clinic_. The whole point of it was really embarrassing. Get over it, girlie. "Do you think that I could get…um, a…a test for…p-pregnancy."

I rolled my eyes. This girl really needed to get a grip. "Sure, I'll just need your name and age."

There was a pause. "Um…" the poor girl sounded close to tears now, "Lissa Richardson. I'm sixteen." My jaw dropped. My hand slipped off a stack of notecards and knocked over a jar of thumb tacks. They scattered all over the floor. That was going to be messy to clean up. But I had bigger things to deal with at the moment.

Lissa Richardson was head cheerleader, class president, and the most bitchy, popular, and beautiful female of my high school. And she was _pregnant_? Ouch. Sadly, I couldn't say it was totally unexpected. She is dating that total slim-ball Nick "Fang" Parker. He's a disgusting perv. And I know for a fact that the only reason he went out with her in the first place was to get into her pants. Which, apparently, he totally succeeded in.

"Oh, um…wow, sure. How does 4:30 tomorrow sound?" Tomorrow was Monday, the only day she didn't stay after school for presidential meetings or cheering practice or whatever.

"Sure," she said quietly. I was almost positive I heard a sob before she hung up. Even though she's made my life hell since sixth grade, I couldn't help feeling sorry for the poor girl. That was a really tough position to be in. But for some unknown, out-of-the-blue protective reason, I really wanted to punch that Fang kid in the face.

"Max, any messages?" asked Anne. She approached the desk, but she didn't have any packages. Weird.

"Oh, yeah, a girl's coming in for a preggers test tomorrow at 4:30," I said, getting up out of the awesome chair and walking out from behind the desk.

Anne frowned. "Max, it's _pregnancy test_. You should be more respectful. You have no idea what that poor girl must be going through." Anne shook her head, taking back her place at the desk, the lucky duck. "It's her own fault, though. So many young people are sexually active these days…"

And that's my queue to leave.

For the rest of the afternoon, I just sort of hung out doing odd jobs since all the new shipments of aspirin and stuff had been sorted and shelved already, courtesy of moi. For example Angel, this little girl who lives next door to me, came in for a shot and I held her hand. Afterward I gave her a lollipop and a sticker of Hello Kitty. I babysit her and her brother, Gazzy, every other Friday night when their parents have 'Date Night'.

It's really fun, actually. It beats getting felt up and wasted at high school parties, anyway. Last Friday we watched _Tangled_. I'm not one for Disney, but I have to say that this was one kick-butt kids' movie. Afterward, we always act out the movies. Angel, of course, was Rapunzel, Gazzy was Flynn, and I was, of course, Mother Gothel. I can't sing worth crap, but I did my best on the "Mother Knows Best" number for Angel's sake. She's just so dang cute as Rapunzel.

Anyway, Mom let me go home early since I had to study for a Spanish quiz tomorrow. I threw my messenger bag over one shoulder and flipped my skateboard up with one foot, carrying it to the curb of the clinic's parking lot before setting it down. Mom doesn't like me riding it near the streets, but what she's doesn't know can't hurt her, right? Right.

Even worse, I listen to my iPod while riding. Totally unsafe, but do I care? Hell no. I'm a carefree teenager with everything to lose. Screw safety. Unfortunately, I can't say the same Lissa. And boy, is she gonna be pissed when she finds out that the school's total reject/loser is the only one who knows she's pregnant. I have the outcome of her high school future in the palm of my hands.

Oh, I'm feeling the power. No, wait, that's just my cellphone. I put it on vibrate when I was working. It was Nudge.

"Hey, Nudge. What's up?" I pulled out my ear buds as I turned onto my street with the help of the street sign reading _Maple_.

"You'll never guess what happened today!" she hollered. I winced, and held the phone away from my ear.

"Jeez, Nudge. Blow my eardrum, why don't you." She just laughed.

"Sorry, I can't help it. But I have to tell you about this. I just _have_ to. You'll _never_ believe it." I'm guessing she was still at the hair salon where she works part time. I could hear old-lady laughter in the background.

"Okay, so what is it?"

"Well, I was walking to work, and guess who I saw walking around town?"

"Bigfoot?"

"_No_, Max, I saw Him." I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn't see me. Nudge refers to her crush as Him. It's ridiculous.

"Nudge, you're getting this worked up over just _seeing_ Dylan?" Dylan Walker was this really creepy dude that sits next to me in Bio. Yeah, he's got that pretty-boy thing going with his wavy blond hair and perfect teeth, complexion, abs, the works. Anyway, he'll just stare at me all through class. It doesn't matter what I'm doing or what's going on in class. At first I thought there was something on my face, but it's just _weird._ And, of course, that's the only class Nudge isn't in.

"Come on, Max. You have to admit he's totally hot." There was a pause, and more old-lady laughter.

"Nude, you shouldn't just go by looks."

She scoffed. "Please, Max, you sound like my mom, and anyway, you're just saying that because of Sam." I winced. I'd forgotten about that, or at least I'd _tried_ to. No thanks to Nudge. Sam had been my boyfriend for exactly one week, I dumped him after that 'cause he totally tried to cock a feel. He was a total jackass.

"Nudge, I was trying to forget about him."

"Oh, right, sorry. But anyway, he was skateboarding, and he waved at me. Can you believe it? It was the awesomest thing ever. I can't even begin to-"

"Nudge, awesomest isn't even a word."

"Whatever, Max. I'll see you on Monday, okay? Charlotte just came in for a root touch-up. Bye." She hung up. I sighed, stuffing the phone back in my pocket and putting my ear buds back in. Tomorrow would sure be interesting.

But when I got home, thoughts of tomorrow were totally erased from my mind. The cutest Scottish-looking puppy trotted up to me, a blue bow attached to its collar. I crouched down and patted its head before opening the card that was attached to his collar as well. _Happy belated birthday, Max! _It was from my Dad. He was always away on business, but...wow. He usually got me an iTunes gift card or something. Not that I was complaining. I kept reading. _I'm so sorry I couldn't make your birthday party, so I hope this will help you forgive me. His name is Total. _

Total. That's kind of interesting. But really cool. "Total," I said, and the dog baked, happily waving its tale. This was awesome. I should probably take him out or something. After a bit of searching around the living room, I found his leash. Picking him up, I carried him a couple streets over to this little park that a lot of people walk their dogs at. I set Total down, and he started sniffing, his tail still wagging.

I walked to the edge of the park with him, where the low-cut grass ended and a small forest started. It was almost impossible to pick through. And if you tried to get something from it, it was guaranteed that you would return with more than a few scratches. Anyway-

_Thunk_.

Something wacked me in the back of the head. I football bounced around me feet. I picked it up and turned around, coming face to face Fang Parker. Lovely. "Mind tossing that back?" he asked, grinning. "Oh, wait, that's right. Aren't you that girl who got kicked out of Gym for shitty aim?"

He's right. Only it wasn't for shitty aim. I hit Lissa with that baseball on purpose. But I wasn't about to tell that to her boyfriend. Especially not now, because of certain current events. And then I got mad again. His face just screamed out for a swift kick. But he could probably crush my skull if he wanted to, which would totally suck, so I thought of something milder.

"No, I can throw it," I assured him. "Back up a little bit."

He raised his eyebrows. Then his friend, Iggy, I think it was, who had jogged to stand beside Fang, started to laugh. "Yeah, _right_."

But then Fang spoke up. "No, let her throw it." He backed up a bit. Man, this was going to be easier than I thought.

"Just a little bit more," I said, making a pushing motion with my hands. "I throw really far." This made that Iggy dude laugh harder. What an asshole. "Little bit more…just there! Right there." I clamped the football between my hands. "Ready?"

"Any time now, sweetheart," Fang called. Ew. What a jerk.

I drew back my arm, ready to throw, and Fang and Iggy got ready, but at the last minute and spun my heel and chucked the ball as deep in the forest as possible. They would never see that poor thing again. And even before I could see their faces, which I'm sure were priceless, I grabbed Total's leash. "RUN, TOTAL!" I hollered. "EVERY CANINE FOR HIMSELF!"

I can't believe it. They were chasing me. Two junior boys were _chasing_ me. What was this? _Kindergarten_? Well, whatever it was, it was flipping scary. I was a pretty fast runner, but I hadn't been on the school football team for three years, which put me in a really crappy place next to Fang and Iggy. But, on the other hand, I was a girl, a smart girl, who could worm her way out of any sticky situation. Including this one.

I scooped Total up in my arms while running (Not an easy thing to do.), and chanced a quick look back in their direction. They were gaining on me. Crap.

Then I got an idea. It was one of those split second live or die ideas. Was it a sensible idea? No. Was it a sane idea? _Hell _no. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. "Dylan!" He turned around and smiled a freakishly blinding smile. I swear he uses whitening strips. "I need your skateboard."

He looked taken aback. "What?"

"_Pronto_, dude. Get a move on!"

"Uh, okay. Why-"

I grabbed the skateboard he'd held out to me. "No time! Thanks, though. I'll get it back to you later!" I tucked Total under one arm, threw down the board, and took one glance at Fang and Iggy, who had stopped running by now and were just watching me, before stepping on the board and plunging into traffic.

I heard someone yell. It sounded like Fang, but I couldn't be sure. I was too busy trying not to die. But then it was all over. I managed to get a hold on a bumper of a car, and it started to pull me, Total, skateboard, and all, towards home.

Never say I wasn't resourceful.

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><p>Disclaimer: Let's be serious. If I owned the books, Fang would be dating <em>me<em>.

Thoughts? Notes? Opinions? Chocolate chip cookies? If so, leave them in that nice little blue link down there:

Peace, Love, and FanFiction,

~Snickuhs


	2. Bathroom Chats and Detention

**Chapter Two: Bathroom Chats and Detention **

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><p><em>Beep<em>. _Beep_. _Beep_.

Die, evil contraption from hell! I threw my Mickey Mouse alarm clock across my room. It smashed into my wall before bouncing onto the floor. One of its ears had broken off. Oh, well. It's only about the millionth time it's happened. The throwing thing is kind of a daily occurrence.

"Max, you get out of that bed right now! The bus is going to be here in a half an hour," mom called form down stairs. Great, just what I wanted to hear. I heaved myself out of bed and headed for the shower. Ten minutes later I walked into the kitchen downstairs, my short wet hair pulled back in a tiny pony tail, and clad in clean jeans and a semi-clean T-shirt. You can't have everything, you know. Just be grateful I even took a shower.

"What's for breakfast?" I asked taking a seat at the round table at the center of the room. Mom was standing over the stove pushed against one of the kitchen walls. "Pancakes," she replied, setting a plate in front of me and dumping three huge pancakes on it. I immediately picked one up and started stuffing it in my mouth.

"Max!" said my mom indignantly.

I looked up. "Wha?" I asked through a mouthful of pancake.

She frowned disapprovingly. "You could at least use a fork."

"I whoo buh de buth eh heah (I would but the bus is here)," I said thickly, seeing the large, yellow, gas-guzzling monster pulling into the driveway. I swallowed, wincing. I could feel the half-chewed pancake sliding down my throat. "Gotta go." I grabbed my bag hanging over the back of the chair next to me and another pancake before heading out the door.

"Bye, Max," called mom. "Don't forget, I need you to work afterschool." Damn. In that case, I'd have to hide in the back room when Lissa was there. If I survive the school day, that is. I took a bite of my second pancake as the two doors opened for me. I waved at my bus driver, Mr. Gunther, before heading to my usual seat at the very back. I slid into the seat, slipping the bag off my shoulder and setting it on the seat next to me.

I pulled out my iPod before any of the losers on the bus could try and make contact with me. That usually discourages them. I found that out the first day of my freshman year. I'm smart like that.

The bus pulled into the parking lot of Itex Academy High School just as the first bell rang. I was walking past the girls' bathroom on my way to my locker when I heard crying. Like, not the petty oh-poop-I-broke-a-nail crying, it was like, holy-shit-I'm pregnant-and-I-have-to-tell-my-asshole-boyfriend crying.

Crap. Me and my stupid mind.

I pushed the bathroom door open and cautiously stepped in. I peeked under the stalls, and sure enough: brand new Itex cheerleading sneakers. Lissa. I was kind of surprised that none of her air-head friends where there comforting her. But, then again, it _was _Monday. Never question Monday, for it will come to hate you and make all your future Mondays majorly sucky.

I couldn't believe I was doing this, but desperate days of the week called for desperate measures. "Lissa?" I called, knocking lightly on her bathroom stall door.

"Go away," she sobbed.

I took a deep breath, praying that she wouldn't slam open her stall door and murder me when she heard what I was going to say. "Lissa, it's Max."

The crying stopped. "What do _you_ want?"

"I…um, I know why you're crying," I said quietly. I totally suck at this. I can't comfort people. Hell, I'm usually the reason they _need_ comforting.

Silence. "How?"

"I was the one who answer you're phone call at the clinic yesterday. I work there in the afternoons. Dr. Martinez is my mom." Does anyone feel like there should be like, an ominous chord in the background? God, I feel like I'm on some crappy soap-opera.

"Oh, my God," said Lissa quietly before bursting into tears again.

"It's okay," I said. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

She sniffed. "You're not?"

"No."

The bathroom stall door opened, revealing Lissa, her pony tail messed up, her mascara smeared, and her face puffy. Lesson of the Day: Even beauty queens can look like crap.

"I don't understand," she said, looking at me with tear-filled eyes, "if you were in this position, I'd make your life hell."

I shrugged. "I guess we have something in common now."

Lissa's perfectly plucked eyebrows pulled together. "We do?" she asked, sounded totally unconvinced.

"Yeah," I grinned. "We both hate Fang with a fiery passion."

Lissa laughed. "You've got that right." She walked over to the sink, turning in on and splashing some cold water on her face. She started rummaging in her bag, probably for an emergency make-up kit or something. It wouldn't surprise me.

"So," I said cautiously, not wanting to cause another round of waterworks, "does he know?"

Lissa shook her head. "No. I want to be sure before I...," she took a deep breath, "tell him."

I nodded. "Okay."

She shook her head. "No, it's not okay." She turned to face me again, now in tears. So much for the 'avoiding waterworks' plan. "He's not going to do anything. He'll dump me the minute he finds out. And I'll be left with," she gestured to her stomach, "_it_."

I put a hand on her shoulder. "He won't. I'll make sure he doesn't. And there's Planned Parenthood, too. It's not like you're in this alone or anything." I was debating saying something like "you're not as alone as you feel" or some crap like that, but I decided that was a little too over-the-top.

She nodded. "Yeah, thanks, Max."

I shrugged. "No problem. I guess it's just kind of a girl thing."

"You know, you're not as much of a loser as I thought." She paused.

"Um, thanks," I said. "I think."

"Maybe, after all this is over, we hang out some time."

I shrugged. "Well, I'll see you at the clinic tonight." I put my hand on the door. "And look on the bright side: you might not even be pregnant." Look at me, being an optimist. I'm so proud.

Lissa gave a water smile. "Yeah. See you then."

Wow, if someone had told me three days ago that I'd be having a heart-to-heart with Lissa Richardson, I probably would've punched them in the face. Never underestimate the power of Monday.

On my way to my locker, I spotted Fang and Iggy leaning against wall opposite it. Five bucks that was no coincidence. I pretended not to see them and walked to my locker. I was in the middle of my combination when they came over to me. What did I tell you?

"So, you survived your little stunt yesterday," Fang said, leaning against the closed locker next to mine.

"Obviously," I said coldly, not looking away from my locker as I finished the combination and opened it.

"Ouch. Someone's cranky," said Iggy, mimicking Fang's stance on my other side. "PMS?"

I finished loading my books in my bag and slammed my locker closed. "You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Iggy?"

Fang whistled. "Feisty." Okay, on a normal day, I would have just rolled my eyes and walked away, but he had just chosen the _wrong_ day to mess with me.

I turned around. "Look, _Nickolas_," Fang frowned at the use of his real name. "Are you _trying_ to pick a fight with me?"

Fang scoffed. "Please, I don't pick fights with girls. It wouldn't be right." Oh, the irony. He won't pick a fight with a girl, but he'll sleep with one in a heartbeat. What a role model.

I opened my mouth to give him a very strongly worded lecture on just what I thought of his morals when I remembered that he had no idea about Lissa's new…accompaniment. Darn. I was so looking forward to giving that sexist pig exactly what was coming to him. Oh, well. Maybe some other time. I closed my mouth, and just decided to duck out while I was still ahead.

I got as far as turning, but then my lovely nature got the best of me.

Ten minutes later I was sitting in the principal's office, staring down that bald monstrosity with everything I had. He cleared his throat, folded his hands, and set them on the large desk in front of him.

"Now, Maximum, is it?"

I didn't respond.

He tried again. "Maximum, do you want to know how Mr. Parker is doing? After all, you did punch him."

_And proud of it! Best three seconds of my life._ "Don't take this personally, um, what is it? Mr. Prune?"

His face turned a violent shade of red. "_Mr. Pruitt_," he hissed.

"Oh, right." I held up my hand. "My bad, Mr. Prude. Anyway, I'm just saying that the day I care how that sad excuse for a teenage boy is doing be the day that pigs fly. No," I corrected myself, "the day that sexist, loud-mouthed, rude pigs fly." He stayed silent, so I continued. "I mean, if you really think about it, why would I care how he's doing if I was the one who socked him in the first place?" I paused. "Scratch that last part. Do you know if he has a black eye yet?"

I folded my hands, very pleased with myself, and placed them on the opposite side of his desk. His face was more of a purple now. Interestingly enough, I had no idea a face could actually turn that color until now. You lean the darndest stuff at school these days.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting in detention. This ten minute interval thing is getting old really fast.

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><p>I'm on my way to the clinic now, I'd say about half way according to the rate I'm going with my trusty skateboard. I brought it to babysit Gazzy and Angel once, and she dubbed it Celeste. So, just to make her happy, I scrawled it on the bottom. It's probably almost gone by now, but's it's the thought that counts.<p>

"MAX!" Did I ever mention that I had a little sister? Well, now you know. Her name's Ella. We're not the closest but we have her moments. She'll be a freshman at Itex next year, so she's been hounding me with questions lately. I thought it was kind of cute at first, but now it makes me want to stab a pencil in my own eye.

"Max, do you know if freshman can try out for cheerleading?" she called as I rolled into the parking lot.

"Jeez, Ella, do you really expect me to know _that_?" Then she got that puppy-dog look on her face, and I could just _feel_ my innards melting. "But I bet Nudge would know. The next time she comes over you can ask."

He face lit up and she squealed. "Thanks, Max!" Damn. That girl knows her trade.

Inside, Mom wasted no time in stuffing me into my work shirt and putting me on duty. And, conveniently, I didn't have time to mention this morning's little episode to her. Thankfully, she's the kind of mom that doesn't ask questions. She waits until someone tells her, or until the school calls. But she knows all about Mr. Fruit, so I usually don't have to worry too much.

I was in the middle of sweeping the waiting room when the door opened and Lissa walked in, her face all puffy again. She smiled and gave a little wave. I waved back. She looked more alone then ever without her group of friends around her.

"Do you have a watch?" she asked. "I have an appointment at 3:30 and I forgot my watch in my locker." She held up a little pink slip. I caught a glimpse of my mother's signature on it. I nodded.

"Yeah, you could go in now if you wanted. It's almost deserted; we'd totally have a room empty."

She stood up, and paused, biting her lip. "Max?" she asked hesitantly. "Will you go with me?"

"Um, sure, I guess," I said, setting my broom and dustpan aside. Playing Cinderella isn't really my thing anyway. I followed Lissa to the front desk, where Anne was waiting for her. Not only was she a secretary, but she also could do almost any job in this whole clinic you could think of. By this time, Lissa's appointment slip was a crumpled into a little ball.

It turns out that I couldn't actually go with her for the test, but I waited outside. It didn't actually take as long as I thought, but when I saw Lissa's face, I decided that I had wanted it to take a whole lot longer. There was no question when I saw her face. She was pregnant. Actually, I was kind of surprised.

I didn't think Fang had it in him to be totally honest.

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><p>Disclaimer: Yeah, do you think I'd still be going to high school? Nope.<p>

Okay, so I'm going to do the next chapter in Fang's POV. What do you think? Any ideas? (I got the idea from Amaya Calypso Yuumei. Thanks!)

Well, whatever.

Love, Peace, and Fanfiction,

~Snickuhs


	3. Light Blue

**Chapter Three: Light Blue**

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><p><strong>Fang POV<strong>

Okay, to be completely truthful, my week has sucked. On Monday, some random chick with a temper punched me in the eye, and I had to make up a story about a football accident so Iggy wouldn't laugh at me.

But what happened on Tuesday made it official. Lissa told me she was pregnant.

Blood pounded deafening rhythm in my ears. Everything started to happen in slow motion all around me, except for Lissa. Lissa, with her cheerleading uniform, and her red hair pulled into a high ponytail. Lissa, tears running down her perfect, porcelain face. This couldn't be happening. Not to me. I'd only been dating her for two months. This couldn't be real…

"Fang, I'm _pregnant_," said sobbed, standing there in front of me, clutching her Spanish folder to her chest. "_Say_ something."

I tried, but I just couldn't. My mouth opened, closed, and opened again. I must have looked like a freaking fish. "Um…I'm…I'm sorry," I managed after a while. What the hell was I _supposed_ to say? "_Sorry I knocked you up and all, but I was going to dump you today before you dropped the news, so bye_!" Yeah, _no_.

This only made her cry harder. Crap. She took a step forward and leaned against me. I could feel the tears soaking through my black T-shirt. Feeling totally awkward after getting over the initial shock of being told I was gonna be a dad, I kind of patted her on the back a bit while trying to hug her at the same time. It didn't turn out as graceful as I had hoped.

Thankfully, all my friends from football practice had left already; they'd gone ahead when I stopped to go to the bathroom. I was on my way to the parking, and she was coming back from cheerleading practice. That's when she cornered me. Literally. She had me up against a corner. It was starting to hurt my shoulders, too.

_Shut up! _I told myself, mentally kicking myself for being so stupid. _You're going to be a dad. Stop thinking about yourself for once, you idiot. _Okay, so that was a little harsh. But my conscience was right. I needed to step up and start being there for Lissa. But _how_ I was going to do that was beyond me.

I offered to take Lissa home, but she said she had things to do. I guess she's kind of pissed at me for knocking her up. But I still don't get it, we _always_ used protection. Okay, I'll admit, I might not come off as the sweetest guy on the planet, but I do care about the girls I go out with. A lot of people think I just bed girls and leave them, but it's not like that. It might be hard to believe, but the girls that I've slept with have _always_ brought it up first. Especially Lissa now that I think about it. And now look where that's got us.

That kind of sounds like I'm blaming this on her, but I'm not. I mean, you can't have sex with yourself. I think. Can you? I'll have to ask Iggy. If anyone, he'll know.

I shove my hands in my pockets as I walk towards the school parking lot. It looks like it's going to rain.

"Yo, Fang!" I look up as Iggy jogs toward me. I really don't need this right now. Man, what'll Iggy do when I tell him? He'll probably look at it like some big joke. It's not. Maybe I'll wait a while. Just see how things play out, y'know?

"Hey," I say back, nodding at him.

Iggy stops. "Dude, what _happened_?"

_Shit_. How does he know already? "Uh, what do you mean?"

Iggy snorts. "What do I mean? C'mon, man. You look like you just got run over by a freaking _steam roller._"

I just shrug. "Bad day, I guess." Actually, bad day didn't even _begin_ to cover it.

"Whatever," said Iggy, shrugging. "We got practice tomorrow." He started walking back to the school. "Don't be late!"

"I won't," I called as he disappeared through the front double doors. And then, as totally mortifying as this sounds, I started to cry. It was ridiculous, I know. Some sixteen-year-old guy sobbing on a school parking lot sidewalk, but everyone better just deal with it, 'cause that's what was happening.

I couldn't be a father. I can't even keep my freaking _goldfish_ alive for more than a few days. How the hell am I going to take care of a real _baby_? Not to mention what my parents are going to say. They'll _kill_ me. Lissa probably won't get the full riot act at home because everyone knows her mother had her when she was seventeen. But my mom, she's really strict about this stuff. She freaks out if I say anything about even going _out_ with a girl. What's she going to do when she finds out that I _impregnated _one?

_God_, my life is totally over.

"You know, I didn't hit you _that_ hard." I look up to see the girl who'd punched me. I remember her name being kind of boyish. Mark or something like that. I stayed silent, hoping that if I glared at her hard enough she'd just go away. She didn't. Instead she sat down next to me on the sidewalk. Just my luck. I continued to ignore her, but she didn't seem to mind.

So we just sat there, in the pouring rain, totally silent. Okay, not totally silent. I was still kind of crying, but it was really different. Any other girl would have been all over me with tissues and annoying comments. But she just sat there next to me perfectly content with the rain soaking through her clothes. Or more specifically, her shirt. Her _white_ shirt.

"I can see your bra," I said abruptly, looking at the light blue material that was visible beneath her shirt.

She just smirked, not even looking down or trying to cover it up with a jacket. "Don't get used to it."

I scowled. "Don't worry, I won't."

"Awesome," she deadpans. "Wouldn't want Lissa getting suspicious now, would we?"

My stomach flips over when she mentions Lissa. "I have to go."

She shrugs. "Don't let me stop you."

I have no idea how to reply to that so I just get up and walk to my car. I glance in her direction as I pull out of the parking lot, and I feel a twinge of guilt as I see that she's going to walk home in this downpour.

I grit my teeth a pull up next to her. I'm not _totally_ heartless. "Do you want a ride?" I yell over the rain hitting the roof of my car as I roll the window down.

She wipes her sopping bangs out of her eyes as she raises her eyebrows at me. "Seriously?"

I shrug. "Well, do you want the ride or not?"

She rolls eyes and pulls open the passenger door, muttering something like, "I can't believe I'm doing this." When she's seated, I press the gas again. In no time we're on the road. I'm trying really hard to ignore the fact that her bra is only showing more due to the seatbelt pressing into her chest, but it's getting more difficult all the time.

She looks over at me with that semi-bored look she wears a lot of the time at school. "Are you checking me out?"

Her bluntness makes me blush. "No, but I wish you'd put a jacket on or _something_." I grip the steering wheel and stare determinedly at the road as she shrugs and leans over to reach into the backseat for her jacket. I will myself not to look but I do, being my stupid horny self. Her shirt is shifted up because of her arm reaching back, and it's showing a considerable amount of skin between her jeans and her shirt.

_Why me? _

Finally, she retrieves her jacket successfully and pulls it on to my relief. "I live over there," she points to the left and I oblige, parking momentarily as she hops out. "Thanks," she says before shutting the door. I watch her as she darts into her house, holding a book above her head. I don't see the point since she's already soaked. But for some reason I couldn't take my eyes off her until she'd closed her door. Don't look at me like that; I was _not_ looking at her butt. For the majority of the time, anyway.

And as I turn onto the highway again, a thought hit's me. Before my favorite color was black, it used to be blue. Light blue. The exact color of Max's bra.

That's just freaking _weird_.

* * *

><p>Oooh, Lissa's not going to be too happy with Fang. If she finds out, that is. Will she? Who knows...<p>

What do _you_ think will happen?

Disclaimer: Of course I'm James Patterson! Can you not recognize me? No? Damn...

Peace, Love, and Fanfiction,

~Snickuhs


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